


Valentine's Day

by do_it_for_the_delitoonz



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Angst, M/M, So much angst, happy valentine's day!!...or not, the first story i ever wrote for the fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:05:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6003435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_it_for_the_delitoonz/pseuds/do_it_for_the_delitoonz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evan's always hated Valentine's Day, but now he has a very real reason to hate the holiday. </p>
<p>Or, the one where Evan's heart is broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine's Day

**Author's Note:**

> So. My first story ever for the fandom. And now I'm posting it here on Valentine's Day. Don't hate me too much (;   
> Oh! and there's a song that goes to this story, too. Valentine's Day by Linkin Park.

Evan pulled his red leather jacket tighter around himself as the icy wind whipped around him, thankful that he had at least had the forethought to bring it with him. Indeed, he had nearly forgotten it in his rush to leave his house and get here, but something had nagged at him in his head to bring it.

Evan turned and grabbed the cold metal of his truck door and began to close it before the damn roses caught his eye. He blew out a sigh, pulling the door back open and leaning across the driver’s seat to grab them before sliding back out and slamming the door shut with one black gloved hand.

He refused to look at the roses for longer than he absolutely had to, the plastic around the stems crinkling loudly in his firm grip. He stepped away from his red truck and started walking, his steps hesitant, his thoughts decidedly dark. His eyes were focused on the grey, frozen grass at his feet, letting his body carry him down the dark path he knew so well at this point.

He didn’t have far to go, and the closer he got the harder it became to not lose his customary cool. Not that it mattered. He was the only one here this goddamn place. He tore his eyes away from the ground and instead forced himself to confront what he desperately didn’t want to see, but saw nearly every day. The fact that he saw it so much didn’t lessen the blow he felt every single fucking time he saw it. His eyes landed onto the surprisingly large black marble headstone, and the emotions that welled up at the sight of it were threatening to pull him under, make him drown and choke.

Jonathan Fong - May 2,1987- June 7,2018

Evan felt the tears flood his eyes, and he blinked, raising a gloved hand up to his eyes and wiped away the moisture gathering there.

“Hey babe,” he greeted shakily, lowering himself down gently, a tiny wistful smile appearing on his face as he settled in.

“I miss you, still. Everyone does. It’s been….hard, to say the least,” Evan spoke quietly, rubbing his thumb a long the seam of his heavy sweatpants, the silence only serving to make it harder to get his words out as he continued. “Nothing…is the same.

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jon. I-I got you something, they just caught my eye and I knew that I had to get them,” Evan whispered, letting his tears fall this time.

This hurt, goddamn it. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should be at home with the love of his fucking life, bantering back and forth and sharing kisses in the kitchen while they made dinner before curling up in their large, warn bed and eating in the soft glowing light of vanilla scented candles, dragging his bulk over the older man’s and practically worshiping his lithe body afterwards into the early hours of the morning. Instead, he was here, in this cold empty graveyard, addressing his fucking soulmate’s dead body buried into the unyielding ground.

He placed the dark blue roses down in the holder, his body trembling faintly. Evan hated this. He hated feeling like less of a man for crying, and Jonathan had always let Evan know that it was OK to let himself feel all of his emotions instead of locking them away. Jonathan had helped him learn how to actually live, and now he was gone.

“I don’t think I’m going to ever get used to the fact that you’re not here by my side, that you’re not going to steal the blankets and kick me in the side at night. I miss your goddamn crazy laugh, I miss your teasing and your angry rock music blaring through the house when you cleaned because it was the only music that made you want to clean. I miss the way you smiled whenever I touched you, I miss the way you kissed me, I miss the way your body fit perfectly with mine, I miss the sounds you used to make, I miss every single fucking thing about you,” Evan cried, his ironclad control slipping away from him. He felt the tears run down his cheeks, icy cold, and crumpled in on himself, the only observer to his breakdown the impartial, silent wind.

His mind was empty, but his heart was not. He sat, crumpled and broken and drowning in his own emotions, tears streaming down his weary face, his eyes unseeing. He hiccuped loudly into the silence, and felt several lances of pain shooting from his heart down to the palms of his still trembling hands as he caught sight of his last name, attached to Jonathan’s forever, and began sobbing harder.

“I wish…I-I wish it had been me, instead of you. I wish I hadn’t gone to that stupid hockey game. I could have protected you, could have saved you, if only I had been fucking home. But no, I had to leave you there, alone and unprotected,” Evan choked out, the trembling in his body morphing into full-blown shaking as his tears fell faster. He knew he would never forgive himself for leaving his Jonathan behind that terrible night, knew that he couldn’t. He had left him there, watching one of his favorite shitty movies on the couch. Evan had pressed a kiss to Jonathan’s forehead, to his lips. An “I love you" had fell from his lips as he had hit the doorstep and turned to face Jonathan’s warm gaze. Jonathan had smiled that gorgeous smile of his, the one that took up half of his angular face and made his unnaturally blue eyes light up. Evan had smiled back, then left.

And when Evan had gotten home….

Evan curled up tighter, his arms wrapping around his shins and his face nearly pressed against his own thighs, his chest tightening.

When Evan had gotten home, the house had been silent, and dark, and Evan had immediately known that something was wrong. He had dropped his hockey bag on the porch and reached for the front door. It had been unlocked, and his heart had attempted to force its way up out of his mouth. He had stared, dumbly, at the wooden paneling before he pushed it open, numbness settling in his very soul when he had been greeted with silence. And then he had stepped through, and his fears had been repressed, slightly. Evan had stepped over to the couch, the movie on the TV screen the only source of light, and his eyes had fallen onto the limp body on the couch, and Evan vaguely remembered roaring as scarlet dripped down white skin and onto the hardwood floor. Jonathan’s eyes had been open and unseeing, a redblack strip stretching across blue and white. Evan had seen the strip in Jonathan’s eyes and had thrown up before he had fumbled for his phone and dialed 9-1-1.

Evan hadn’t felt anything, not for weeks after walking in on his Jonathan’s dead body. He had been emotionless through questioning from the police, through Luke venting his anger and his pain on Evan, through Jonathan’s funeral, not two years after Evan and Jonathan had gotten married. He had stuffed all of his anger, all of his pain, all of his hurt down inside of himself, his control greater than ever. It had helped, especially when Evan had forced himself to sell the house that he had thought that he and Jonathan would grow old and grey in together.

Evan’s heart was empty, and yet it still took an hour for his tears to stop streaming down his face. Above the broken down man, grey clouds opened, and snow started to fall gently. Evan laughed, the sound melancholy. It was snowing on the his first Valentine’s Day without Jonathan. Evan unfolded himself, wiped away his tears, and looked at Jonathan’s grave. He wavered, unsure, before reaching out and touching the cold marble.

"I love you, Jonathan. I always will. I vowed to, damn it. And I know that I’ll be seeing you again soon enough. I can’t wait to see you, to look you in the eyes and hear that laugh.” Evan closed his eyes, and saw his best friend again, a tiny smile appearing on his lips before he turned and started the haul back to his truck.


End file.
